And a date to boot….

So, it has been roughly a week since my roommates and I lost power and it has been just as long since we had hot water. Yesterday, I wandered down to the basement apt, ready to brave the language barrier in hopes find a phone number for the oil company and to avoid the nightly shower dance.

Once inside I wandered around and found the number on the very old boiler/hot water heater. “It looks to me like the engine needs to be rebooted,” I tell my neighbors. We exchanged numbers in hopes to inform one another if we see our landlord and or if hot water were to return. While waiting for the oil company to call me back my downstairs neighbor, Jose, called.

Jose: Ummm owners number…

Shore: Yeah that is the # we have. Oh well, I hope he turns up, alive.

Jose: Ummm…my English not good…… OK?

Shore: Oh that is OK I don’t mind.

Jose: You new…. I never see you before…… you married?

Shore: Ummmm…. no… (omg, what door did I just open?)

Jose: ummm…….I like you…….you nice

Shore: Ahhh… yeah… well, I am seeing somebody (which I am not) but thank you.

Jose: Oh OK…..call me anytime….... I like you…..I want to help anytime.

Shore: Oh OK…..well, thanks.

After this awkward conversation was over my roommate Buck was laughing hysterically. She tells me my face contoured into some very funny shapes as the conversation progressed. I couldn’t imagine how he found me even remotely attractive, my hair was wild and I was decked out in my Boy Scout shirt. Then I realized may be should have finished my ice pop before I knocked on the door.

My bad…..

Lost but never found

The general thought is if you loose something on the subway you can kiss it good-bye. However, the MTA would like to make you feel better about the possibility of reclaiming whatever it is you may have lost. They now post signs informing straphangers where you can call about your lost belongings decorated with examples of things one may loose on the subway.

An ipod, a wallet, money, a cane, glasses, you know things that are commonly lost and I am sure are actually found on the subway by conductors everyday. Yeah I think it is possible to loose that basketball or that large bomb box if you put it under your seat and blank out. I mean we are human, and the same could apply to that cobra up there……whoa, wait! A SNAKE!!! No that can’t be right, oh no it is…that is definitely a snake. May be it representing a toy snake, I can see a kid loosing one of them.

Hmmm, what is that long nude colored object….oh…is that…no…..omg…it is, I think it really is… it is prosthetic leg? OK, how the hell do you forget YOUR LEG?!?!?! Seriously people, your leg!!! OK, for arguments sake, let’s say you were carrying an extra, how do you forget it?!?!?!? Does that mean someone has actually done it?

And OK let’s say you forget your leg on the train, how do you reclaim it? It has to have some type of identifying number, like a barcode, right? It isn’t like that many legs turn up in lost and found anyway. The MTA could make you try it on to confirm it fits?

Yeah I know that might sound wrong but until you try to communicate with a company like the MTA, you should reserve judgment.

Fog horn, what?

Whitelightning invited me & Hapabukbuk out to visit with her mom in the Hamptons. Everything was great, the food, the beach, until I woke up in the middle of the night to a pulling and tugging motion around my legs.

Me: Whoa… what….huh…. What’s happening? What are you doing?

Hapabukbuk: I can’t sleep you are snoring.

Me: Huh?

Hapabukbuk: You sound like a fog horn.

Me: Wait! No way!

Hapabukbuk: I am going to sleep on the coach.

Me: Arrrrgghhh…..

And she did, taking all the covers with her.

As a back story you should know that 1 yr ago I went under the knife to correct a chronic sinus issue that caused migraines & ear infections. While the surgery alleviated me of both issues the side effect is I now snore. Well, at least according to Hapabukbuk.

For the remainder of the trip Whitelighning shared the room with me and stuck Hapabukbuk in another room all by herself out of fear our joined breathing patterns would keep her awake all night.

The drama…

Wise purchase?

While wandering the streets of Queens I noticed there are a number of people who own these racer style cars. They love to drive them around the s mall streets with their windows open and music blaring.

They are small 2 door cars often seen in silver. They have a spoiler that is almost twice as wide as the trunk, rims that are so big the tire look no more than 3 inches thick, and a manufacturer installed fire extinguisher attached to the passenger side dashboard……

Whoa… wait!!! Fire extinguisher!!!! What kind of car comes with a fire extinguisher within arms length of the driver?!?!?!?

Apparently, it is fashionable to own a car that could catch fire at any given moment? Who knew?

You can look....

So I have this compulsion, I touch everything. OK, let me be more specific. I am talking about inanimate objects. For example if I am in a toy store and I see some soft, like a stuff animal, I have to touch to find out just how soft it actually is. In order to best see the CD on the rack I have to pick it up. I mean it isn’t really real unless I pick it up.

I was heading home via the subway around midnight. After I dip down the stairs I see wet paint signs hanging on almost every pillar. Now, I have seen these signs for year, and every time I almost see it as a challenge to prove it wrong.

I go in for the test with not 1 but 3 finger tips because more is better right? OMG….OMG…. it is WET!!! It is never actually wet. In the 7 years of looking at these signs it has never once been wet.

Now, there I am staring at my fingers, absolutely horrified at the fact the pillar is actually wet and completely unsure of what to do. I mean doesn’t the MTA know about my disorder, how dare it actually be wet.

I need to get this off my fingers best I can before I touch something important, like my hair. Don’t laugh, until you have gotten paint in your hair and poor gasoline in it to get it out. I look around and the only thing that isn’t painted was the subway map. I decided it was either me or the map and wipe my fingers down the only non-painted polls on the platform.

So, if you are ever at the 57th street station look for my tag.

I am such an idiot.